by Zoey Gong
We ride through the gate and take the road north, leaving the Forbidden City in our wake. I do not look back.
15
As Honghui leads his horse around the tall, red walls of the Forbidden City, we quickly catch up to the caravan of donkey carts carrying the ladies. We have not gotten far, and seem to still be within Peking. I twist in the saddle to look back, expecting to see the foreigners chasing us. Instead, I only see throngs of local people, carrying bags and children, leading animals, and pushing wheelbarrows, trying to get away from the invaders with as many of their possessions as possible.
“Will the foreigners follow us?” I ask Honghui. “The donkey carts will not be able to out-run them. I can’t believe we weren’t told to leave until the invaders were at our very gates.”
“No, they won’t follow us,” he says. “By taking over the Forbidden City, the throne, they have no need for more. They don’t want to sack the city, only make their point to Guozhi.”
The horse whinnies and side-steps to avoid stepping on someone. I hold tightly to Honghui to keep from falling off. There’s not really enough room in the saddle for two people, but we have to make do. Honghui pulls the horse to the right, forcing it through the crowd to stay right behind the last cart.
“I’m sorry I didn’t send word to you sooner,” he says, his tone small and even, as though he is truly regretful, but the words are hard to say.
“I’m sure you did the best you could,” I say, a lump in my throat. “If you hadn’t told me weeks ago that this was a possibility, we probably would not have made it out. I would have been at a complete loss as to what to do.”
“I’m sure my brother will be pleased with you,” he says, and then he chuckles. “I’m actually surprised you managed to get everyone out. You were able to stay calm in a terrifying situation. I’m impressed.”
In spite of everything, I can’t help but feel flattered and feel my cheeks blush even though he can’t see me. This is the most we have spoken to each other since I became empress. His voice still has the power to make me weak. It’s a good thing I’m not trying to walk right now.
Riding the horse, though, is terribly uncomfortable. My thighs are already sore, as is my lower back. We are ambling along slowly, slower than a walking pace since the overloaded carts are being led by servants. I hold tightly to Honghui, afraid I might slip off one side or the other of the horse. It’s hard to keep my balance.
“How bad is it?” I ask. Honghui is quiet for a long time before answering.
“Bad. The fighting along the coast was devastating. Some of the fishing villages are completely gone. We didn’t have many ships, but the few we did have were destroyed, at least those positioned at Dagu. There are some far to the south, but it would take days for them to receive any messages to come to Peking, and even longer for them to get here. For the moment, it is better that they stay where they are. We can’t afford any more losses.”
The road climbs steadily uphill. I turn around to get another look and see that we are a fair distance from the Forbidden City. From here, it looks as it always did—large, red, and impenetrable. The only hint that something is wrong is the plumes of black smoke rising from the city and the endless trail of people leading back to the city. Honghui said the foreigners did not want to sack the city, but the fire and mass of people fleeing tell another story.
“What happened?” I ask. “How did it come to this?”
He is quiet, and then shakes his head. “You wouldn’t understand.”
“Try to explain it,” I say. “I am the empress, am I not? I should know what’s going on, even if there is nothing I can do about it.”
He says nothing, only focuses on keeping people from getting between the last cart and our horse. I lay my head on his back and listen to his even breathing.
“This is a conflict that has been brewing since my grandfather was emperor,” he finally says. I stay quiet so he doesn’t stop. “China has a lot of things the foreigners want: silk, porcelain, tea. A country is like any business, it needs money to run smoothly. So, we allow the foreigners to trade with our people, as long as our people and the foreigners pay a tax, a fee, if you will, to the government.”
So far, his explanation does not seem overly complicated. It must be a lot of goods, and a lot of tax, that is exchanged in order to keep us living in the opulence we do—we did. I wait for him to continue, to find out what impact this will have on us.
“But the foreigners are greedy,” he says. “They want lower taxes, their own ports, their own cities where their people won’t have to follow our laws. They want to bring in missionaries, religious people, to try and convert the people to their way of thinking and turn them against us.
“We have tried to come to agreements where we can. After all, we need to make money somehow. But every time we make a concession, they then push for more. They push and push, just to see how much they can take from us before we push back.
“When it was only the British, we were able to set limits on what we thought was reasonable. England is a very small country. But other countries have seen how rich England has grown through trade with us, and now they all want their share. What we give to one country, all the others want as well. They have been carving out pieces of our land for their own, where they set their own rules, including tax regulations, to get away with paying us less and less. We are losing our country and our income bit by bit.”
He sighs. “The latest round of treaty agreements were far too unfair to us, so Guozhi pushed back. He refused to sign them and threatened to expel the foreigners altogether. The bluff worked, and the foreigners pulled back. They issued new treaty agreements more in line with what we had agreed to in the past. But Guozhi thought that the previous agreements were too greedy as well. He thought that this was an opportunity to take back some of what we have been forced to give in the past. He refused to sign the treaties, issuing new ones of his own that strongly curtailed the foreigners’ rights. He thought he had the upper hand. That since the foreigners had backed down once, they would back down again. But he was wrong.
“Instead of backing down, the foreigners threatened to take what they wanted by force. They said that Guozhi was corrupt and greedy and didn’t deserve to be emperor. That they would depose him and put someone else in charge.”
I snort, but do my best not to laugh. Two hundred years ago, the Manchu invaders did much the same. The previous emperor had grown weak, and there was much unrest. So, the Manchu, barbarians from the far north, invaded and put their own Manchu emperor on the throne. The fact that the same thing is happening to the Manchu makes me laugh inside, though I wouldn’t dare do so in front of Honghui. I’m supposed to be playing the part of a fellow Manchu. I am the Manchu empress. I should be horrified by what is happening. But, really, should the foreigners run all of the Manchu out of China, I wouldn’t be sorry. It would be unfortunate that yet another foreign power would be on the throne, but it makes no difference to me. One conqueror is pretty much like the next.
“I suppose the foreigners made good on their threats,” I say. “They have pushed Guozhi out and put their own emperor on the throne?”
“Not quite yet,” Honghui says. “They wanted to show Guozhi that they could, indeed, do what they threatened. They could appoint their own emperor if they wanted. But they don’t really want to go that far.”
“Why not? Why would they walk away from a victory?”
“The one thing we have on our side is our size,” he says. “China is a massive country. All the other countries could fit inside China and there would still be room left over. They don’t speak our language, understand our ways. If they tried to appoint their own emperor, the people would fight back. There would be an uncontrollable rebellion.”
I am skeptical at this. I don’t know anyone who would fight and die for the Manchu emperor. But maybe I am wrong. Perhaps a Manchu ruler is at least preferable to someone from across the sea.
I look at those
around us who have fled the city, afraid for their safety. They are tired, dirty, and growing weary. Many have stopped and are sitting on the side of the road. Bags and animals and other items have been abandoned along the way, too much for the people to carry.
“So, what now?” I ask.
“We will go to Jehol,” Honghui says with a defeated sigh. “The emperor and his advisors will draw up new treaties and we will all work toward an agreement that will let us return home.”
“What if an agreement still cannot be reached?” I ask.
“I do not think that will happen,” he says. “We might not be happy with the terms, but Guozhi will have to come to an agreement sooner or later.”
“But what if he doesn’t?” I ask. I wait a long time for an answer, but one doesn’t come. I’m not sure if this means it won’t happen, or that he doesn’t want to tell me if it does. I don’t press him for an answer. There is nothing I can do about it either way. I won’t be consulted in the negotiations. I don’t even know what countries we are fighting against. I am glad to at least now understand the severity of the situation, but that is all. I can only go to Jehol and tend to my duties as empress of the harem as best I can and hope that Guozhi and the foreigners come to terms soon so that we may return home.
I hear a scream and crash from further up ahead and the line of donkey carts comes to a sudden halt. Honghui urges his horse ahead to find out what is wrong. We arrive to find that a wheel on one of the carts has broken, causing the cart to collapse to one side, throwing the ladies and their trunks onto the road. One of the trunks has burst open, sending silks and jewels and shoes and other items strewn across the ground. People passing by stop and steal whatever they can get their hands on. One of the ladies is screaming for help because her things are being stolen. Three eunuchs are fighting with the thieves, trying to get the items back while still more passersby take whatever they want. The other lady who had been in the cart is being tended to by her maids. It looks as if she hit her head in the fall.
I jump down from the horse and run to the injured woman. I hear a gunshot and see that Honghui has fired his gun into the air and is now pointing it at the thieves. He orders them to drop the items and move along. Some do as they are told, others just run, pilfered goods and all. Honghui then uses his horse and gun to keep the crowd from getting too close while I try to figure out what to do.
The injured lady has a small, bloody gash on her forehead, but I do not think it is deep. Her maid holds a handkerchief to it to stop the bleeding. The eunuchs then turn the cart upright and try to fix the wheel, but it is hopeless.
“We will just have to walk, then,” I say.
The girl who lost everything whimpers in horror. “But it’s so far!”
“If your servants are capable of walking the distance, then you are too,” I tell her. “I will walk as well. Honghui, take this injured girl on your horse.”
He nods as the eunuchs help him pull the girl up in front of him in the saddle so he can keep his arms around her and make sure she doesn’t fall. The donkey is released from the useless cart, and the remaining trunk is strapped to its back. After the cart is cleared from the road, we are moving once again. The concubine whines and protests about having to walk, but I ignore her. The other carts follow along behind us and I watch as the carts that had been ahead of us pull farther away.
The people who have fled Peking along with us look at us from time to time, especially the concubine. I dressed plainly, and I am sure I am filthy and stink of horse. I probably look like all the other refugees. The concubine, however, is wearing a fine, embroidered, silk qipao and is still wearing her headdress. How she managed to not lose it when she fell from the donkey cart is beyond me. She did at least heed my order to wear flat shoes, but she lets us know every time she steps on a rock or twig. The passersby watch us with indifference, confusion, disdain, and humor. They say nothing to us, but I fear what might have become of us without Honghui’s protection. We surely would have been robbed of everything, even the clothes we are wearing, at the very least.
The walk is long and arduous. My own feet and legs are sore, but I try to keep my discomfort to myself. We keep walking, not even stopping at night except to feed and water the donkeys. I have the ladies take turns riding on the remaining donkey carts and walking.
After what I think has been two days and two nights of walking—I may have lost count—I am surprised to see Jinhai coming toward us, leading empty donkey carts, enough for each lady to have her own cart. They must be the carts that arrived ahead of us. I nearly collapse into his arms and cry with relief. He holds me and pats my back.
“There, there, my lady,” he says. “All is well.” He helps me into a cart and my legs immediately go numb. If I couldn’t see them, I would swear I had lost them on the journey.
With the carts lightened by having to carry only one lady and at most a single trunk, we are able to make the final part of the journey at a quick pace.
Finally, a mountain rises before me, and at the top is a solid, gray wall, the outer wall of the Winter Palace. It is nothing like the Forbidden City, or the Summer Palace, places of green trees, blue waters, and bright colors. Even though this place is called the Winter Palace, it is a military fort. Plain, strong, and practical.
It is beautiful.
16
Once we get through the main gate of the outer wall, I can see that the Winter Palace is not as plain as I thought. Built on the side of a mountain, the palace rises ever higher, each building on a tier higher than the one before it. It is arranged so that you are always walking either uphill or downhill, which is going to make it very difficult for the ladies once they are able to wear their pot-bottom shoes again. Like the Summer Palace, I can see no division between and inner court and outer court. The entire palace is open, filled with paths, evergreen trees, and ponds. Right now, it is warm, and everything is in bloom. But come winter, the palace will be blanketed in thick snow, or so I have heard. But winter is months away. We will surely be back home—I mean, in the Forbidden City—by then.
The large main courtyard is full of ladies, all crying, talking, and embracing one another. The trunks are stacked and the poor donkeys are led away to be fed and watered in nearby stables. As I climb out of my own cart, so exhausted I want nothing more than to find a bed and sleep, the ladies throng around me.
“What are we to do?”
“Where should we go?”
“When can we eat?”
So many questions, and I have answers to none of them. I look around, but I do not see Honghui. Nor do I see the emperor. That single thought recalls the burning anger I feel for Guozhi that has been building within me over the long trek north. How could he be so foolish, so selfish, as to put us in this position? He led us to war, and then left us to fend for ourselves. And now that we have managed to find our way here, we still have no directions about what to do.
“Where is Fiyanggu?” I ask Jinhai. He asks around, and soon Fiyanggu is kneeling before me. I touch his shoulder to bring him to my height. I’ll not talk down to him when I need him so. “What are we to do?”
He shakes his head. “I’m not sure, your majesty,” he says. “In truth, I don’t know that the harem has ever been brought here before. It is a hunting lodge. Past emperors would come here to get away from the pressures of palace life—including the ladies.”
I have to restrain from rolling my eyes at this. The emperor has the entire outer court, half the Forbidden City, to himself where we ladies are not permitted to enter. There are many nights, sometimes weeks at a time, where he summons no ladies to his bed-chamber. The thought that the emperor needs an entire palace to himself hundreds of li away from the women he chose to marry irritates me beyond measure.
“The palace was not designed to house palace ladies, and certainly not so many. The emperor himself has not been here in many years, so there are very few supplies—”
“Now that you have outlined the problems,�
� I say, folding my hands together tightly, “what solutions do you suggest?”
His face blanches and his jaw drops as if he didn’t expect me to ask such a thing. But who else can I ask? I have no idea what the palace has to offer, or where we can get supplies. Fiyanggu stammers, something about room assignments and locating the servants.
“The ladies are hungry,” I say. “They have not eaten in two days, at least. First, find them something to eat. Then we will worry about where they will sleep tonight.”
Fiyanggu bows and backs away. “Yes, your majesty.”
I turn to Jinhai and ask for his suggestions.
“We need to find out who is here,” he says. “We need to make sure all the ladies arrived safely, and their servants. Some of the ladies have already complained about missing servants. I am certain some fled in the chaos.”
I nod. “Take an accounting here in the courtyard,” I say. “Arrange the trunks so that the ladies have somewhere to sit, and make sure no one is sick or injured. Let me know about any problems you encounter.”
“Yes, your majesty.”
Jinhai and his assistants move through the crowd of ladies and servants, doing his best to organize them in some way.
“Majesty,” Suyin says to me. “There is a room ready for you.”
“What?”
“I have spoken to the servants who are always here at the Winter Palace. This place is seldom used, but it is maintained should the emperor wish to use it. It was not prepared to house the entire harem, but there are rooms for the emperor and the empress that are well-appointed.”
This news comes as a relief, but knowing that there are so many ladies around me who have nowhere to go leaves me hesitant to take advantage of it.
“The empress dowager is already settled in a palace of her own,” Suyin adds. Of course, Fenfeng would make sure she is comfortable regardless of the troubles facing the rest of us. I try not to let it bother me, though. Better she is comfortable and out of my sight than uncomfortable and making trouble for me.
